


After Midnight-Season 3 Tag

by Smudge93



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smudge93/pseuds/Smudge93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's first hour after midnight and the death of his brother</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Midnight-Season 3 Tag

**Author's Note:**

> First published on Supernaturalville 23/5/08

Bobby was worried, the anger that Dean had felt at Sam's death was missing, and all of Sam's actions were cold and methodical. He now showed no emotion at the passing of his brother, Sam's few tears he had cried at midnight dried up just like his insides.

There was no venting of the grief as Dean had done; no angry words, no words at all. Bobby felt as if the hounds had ripped him apart as much as they had Dean. He wanted to go to Sam, comfort him but he knew that he would not be allowed to, so he waited.

Bobby's soul was bleeding for the loss of the man on the floor, the man he thought of as his own, his sorrow for one equalled only by his worry for the other.

Sam knew what he had to do, he had to help his brother in the only way left for him to do for now. Sam had left his brother only for a minute since the events at midnight. He had gone to the master bedroom of the house and stripped the bed of its sheets. He had carried his brother to the room and laid him out gently on the bed, shunning Bobby's help except asking him to fetch the first aid kit from the Impala, the only words he'd spoken since midnight. He closed the door on Bobby's concerned face and turned and faced his brother's soulless body.

Sam undressed Dean carefully so as not to cause pain, treating him as if he was merely sleeping. He cut the clothes that he couldn't remove easily, leaving his brother only his boxers for modesty. The water that he fetched from the bathroom was lukewarm so as not to chill the already cooling body; he fetched towels and opened the first aid kit, spreading its contents on the bed.

Sam washed his face firstly, cleansing it and then carefully patting it dry with the towel, almost as if not to wake him. Dean's face was almost serene, his eyes still open, empty now, the life behind them torn from him.

Slowly Sam worked down his brother's body, wiping the drying blood from his cuts, tenderly cleaning the deep ones. His touch was gentle, trying not to hurt that which no longer could be hurt.

He sat back and lifted his brother up, putting his chest against his, and letting his head rest on his shoulder, Dean's arm lying lifeless across Sam's lap. From this position he cleaned the wounds on Dean's back, these not as deep, his jacket having saved him.

Sure that his brother's body was clean he laid him back down on the bed and stitched the deep gashes on his chest, leg and shoulder. Sam fetched the quilt from the floor where he had thrown it and covered Dean, gently tucking it to him so as no cold could reach him.

Sam stood and looked down at his brother, his ministering finished.

Taking off his jacket he lay down on the bed beside him. Sam brushed his brother's hair with his hand and then gently laid his arm across Dean's chest hugging him to him, as if trying to warm him, protecting him.

And then he cried, both brothers for the moment lost in their own personal hell.


End file.
